


remedial lessons

by alemantele (falcine)



Category: Feverwake - Victoria Lee
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex, there's a lot of physics but it's foreplay i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 20:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17690456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falcine/pseuds/alemantele
Summary: “If you’re not going to follow my lesson plan,” Lehrer said, so softly Noam had to lean in closer to hear, “I can think of better ways for you to be useful, hm?”





	remedial lessons

It was barely a month into the private lessons that Noam gave up. 

The door to Lehrer’s study clicked behind him, and then he was out in the hall. Lesson over, nothing left to do but trudge back to the barracks and try and read ahead for next time. But all Noam could think of was the burning space at the small of his back, where Lehrer had nudged him gently out of the way to get at a bookcase, and then his fingers, where Lehrer’s hand had brushed up against handing him the text, all feeding into his mounting frustration. The infuriatingly neutral line of his lips when Noam had handed the book back at the end of the lesson. How impossible it was to tell if he was even doing anything right, when Lehrer seemed to barely acknowledge his presence, except to maneuver him around apparently. 

“Hey, Álvaro.” 

Noam looked up, surprised to see Dara still lingering in the halls for some reason, as if he was waiting around. For Noam? But that was ridiculous—why in the world would Dara care if Noam was coming?

But there he was, already half turned to leave, but staring at Noam with furrowed brows and a scrutinizing gaze.

Noam rubbed the tips of his fingers together, chewed at the inside of his cheek, and made up his mind. “I, uh, forgot something,” he said, jerking his head back towards the door of the study. Tried for a smile, but it didn’t stick. “I’ll just—go.” 

Dara’s eyes were opaque. Suspicion was etched in the turn of his lips. “Okay,” he said slowly, then turned away. 

Noam swallowed. No going back now. He lifted a hand to the door of the study, took in a breath, then pushed his way in. 

Belatedly, he realized he probably should’ve knocked. 

As he crashed somewhat unceremoniously back into the room, Lehrer looked up from where he was sitting in the armchair. He had a book in one hand. His long legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He didn’t seem all that surprised to see Noam. After a long stretch of silence while Noam tried to work out what he was going to say, Lehrer raised an eyebrow and tilted his head forward. 

“I…,” Noam started, but his throat abruptly closed up on him. He cleared it, heat crawling up his neck. Sunlight slanted into the room like sheet glass, and it was suddenly hard to look at Lehrer. 

“Yes?” Lehrer asked, his voice mild, and the sound of it was enough to jolt Noam back into awareness. 

He sucked in another dry breath. “When am I going to get to actually do something?” he managed to blurt out. His hands tightened on the strap of his satchel. 

Slowly, the expression of slight interest ebbed away from Lehrer’s face. What was left was a cold, unreadable mask. “By ‘do something’ I assume you mean magic?” 

“I—yes.” 

“Are your lessons not riveting enough so far?” Lehrer asked, and there was definitely a mocking edge to his tone now. 

Noam swallowed tightly. “It’s not that. It’s just. I thought you were going to teach me how to… use this.” He unclenched his fist from the satchel’s strap and spread his hands as if the magic sticking to his veins were tangible, there. “If all I’m going to do is read, I could do that on my own, you know,” he said. Then instantly regretted the words. 

“You could,” Lehrer agreed. 

In the stinging silence that followed, Lehrer closed his book with a sharp snap. The sound of it rung, refused to leave Noam’s ears. He resisted the urge to fidget as Lehrer set the thin volume down on the table, just at the edge, then slid it along with one finger. “Are you asking to get out of remedial lessons?” 

Noam blanched. “No,” he said, a bit too loud and fast. “I mean, I only want to know how much I have to study before I get to move on.” 

Lehrer leaned back in the armchair. Thankfully, his expression looked less angry than contemplative. “Well,” he said eventually, “I suppose I have the time. Put your bag down.” 

Something in his stomach lurched. “Now?” 

“Isn’t this exactly what you wanted, barging back in like this?” 

To that wry remark, Noam had nothing to say. He hurriedly moved to drop his bag against his usual chair, then stood back awkwardly in front of Lehrer, who had yet to move from his seat. 

“Stay there,” he said. It sounded conversational, light, but something rooted Noam to the spot, his legs pulled taut, hands dangling awkwardly at his sides with nothing to hold onto. 

With a lazy twitch of his finger, Lehrer sent the book he’d been reading skittering off the table. It landed almost at Noam’s feet, the pages unbent. 

“Now,” Lehrer said, “pick it up.” 

“What?” Noam could hear his own voice, faint, but he felt oddly lightheaded and detached. 

“Pick it up,” Lehrer said again. He draped one arm elegantly over the chair’s back. 

He must’ve meant with magic, Noam thought, but he hadn’t the faintest idea where to start. Staring hard at the book, he tried willing it to rise, which was stupid because that wasn’t how anything worked, but his mind had gone blank, all the pages of classical mechanics and kinematics equations flying out of mind. Panic fluttered at his throat.  _ Dammit,  _ he thought to himself,  _ focus.  _

How did you make something move? Overcome its inertia, change its position over time, apply enough of a force to accelerate. The book looked light enough, but if he was trying to  _ lift  _ it there was the matter of generating a force vector that was enough to overcome the gravitational force, but even as he was trying to figure out exactly how much the thing weighed, nothing happened. It just sat there. Noam stared at it harder, cold sweat trickling between his shoulder blades, but nothing happened. 

“If you can’t figure it out, feel free to use your hands,” Lehrer suddenly cut in. 

Noam looked at him, embarrassment making him feel hot and flush. “Aren’t you…,” he trailed off. Anything he could finish the sentence with— _ aren’t you going to teach me? Aren’t you supposed to help? _ —was probably enough to well and properly set Lehrer’s temper off. 

He stared at the book again, but his brain felt too frazzled to handle any more physics for the day. He nudged at it with his toe, then chanced a look up at Lehrer, who was still watching with a sort of put upon disinterest. It only made the heat climb higher up his neck, lit a slow simmering flame of resentment deep in Noam’s gut. 

Was Lehrer simply trying to humiliate him? Sure, it was stupid, marching in here and demanding the lessons to be sped up, but Lehrer could’ve reprimanded him and sent him on his way, not force him through this charade of a lesson just to prove to Noam that he couldn’t do it. Well, fuck that. Noam already knew he couldn’t do magic worth a damn. Fuck this. 

Not bothering to hide his sullen glare anymore, Noam leaned down and reached for the book.

As soon as he bent, there was a sharp, hard tug on his tie. His eyes widened as he stumbled, nearly careening to the ground. He just barely managed to catch himself, but the pressure was still there on his tie, like a string held taut, yanking him forward and down so he was nearly bent in half at the waist just to keep standing.

Dizzy, he struggled to look back up. 

Lehrer was staring at him dispassionately. He hadn’t moved. But who the fuck else in the room could be slowly choking Noam with fucking telekinesis? 

He opened his mouth, but there was nothing to ask. 

As if he knew the wild panic Noam’s mind was in, the corner of Lehrer’s mouth quirked up into a faint smile. He twitched his finger, and Noam stumbled forward again. 

This time, the pull was too rough for him to keep his balance, and his knees hit the ground hard. He scrabbled out for something grab onto, but before he could there was  _ another  _ pull, and then suddenly his hand had landed solidly on Lehrer’s knee. 

Noam thought he might’ve stopped breathing. 

The pressure eased up on his neck, but he was frozen, kneeling between Lehrer’s legs, one hand braced against the starched fabric of his uniform, his mouth dropped open in shock. 

Looking all the world like there was absolutely nothing wrong, Lehrer shifted so his feet were more solidly planted on the ground. The movement rustled his thigh nearly against Noam’s cheek. Noam didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. Lehrer cast a look behind Noam’s shoulder, and then suddenly the book was flying past Noam’s ear with a soft little  _ whoosh  _ and landing in Lehrer’s waiting hand. 

He set it back down on the table, then reached out and grabbed Noam’s chin. Noam tried to jerk away, but then Lehrer’s other hand was clamped down on his shoulder, and he was trapped. 

“You know,” Lehrer said, “I was planning on introducing you to a little magnetism next week. If you’d been patient, we could’ve spent the afternoon rolling coins around.” The unspoken ‘but’ hung in the air. Lehrer’s grip on him was like iron. Even if Noam wanted to break away, he could never.

Then, almost gently, Lehrer swiped a finger over Noam’s bottom lip. 

_ Oh,  _ Noam thought,  _ okay. _

The laser focus of Lehrer’s clear eyes sharpened. “But you just had to be eager, didn’t you?” 

“Yes.” The word slipped from Noam’s mouth before he knew what he was even saying, and he barely recognized his own voice, already hoarse and needy. He clamped his jaw tight, but there was a tiny little amused smirk on Lehrer’s face now, which made him want to press forward and lean into this whole fucking mess if only to surprise him again. 

Lehrer held his gaze, something calculating leaking into his eyes. “The trick to telekinesis isn’t in actually doing it,” he said. “You have to know the theory, inside and out, so you can access it without consciously thinking all the equations through like you were trying to do back there. Which was the point of all the readings you obviously resented.” 

Somehow Noam felt more embarrassed at being caught in his own impatience than anything else. Chagrined, he dropped his eyes

“Look at me,” Lehrer snapped. 

Startled, Noam looked back up. 

“If you’re not going to follow my lesson plan,” Lehrer said, so softly Noam had to lean in closer to hear, “I can think of better ways for you to be useful, hm?” 

Noam wanted to nod, but Lehrer was still gripping his chin hard enough to hurt. He settled for twisting his fingers into the fabric of Lehrer’s slacks, sliding carefully up the solid muscle of his thigh. 

“I don’t mind if you have questions after class,” Lehrer said. As he spoke, the buckle on his belt slid open with a soft scrape.“But the next time you barge in and mouth off like that, I’m not going to be so lenient.” The zipper at his fly tugged down, agonizing slow. After that, the button popped upon, and then his slacks were undone, and Noam could see the straining bulge of his erection, pressed up against soft cotton. 

Lehrer sat back, as if waiting. “You understand?”

“Yes,” Noam said again. “Yes.” 

Finally, Lehrer released his chin. 

Before he could talk himself down, Noam wet his lips, fell forward, pulling down the waistband of Lehrer’s underwear and finally freeing his cock. Bending down, he licked a careful drag up the length of it, keeping his eyes up and trained on Lehrer’s face.

All he got in return was a low chuckle. 

Determination rushed through him, like potent blood, pulsing through his veins, making his own pants feel too tight. Noam kept a hand braced against Lehrer’s knee and took as much of his dick as he could. He was rewarded with Lehrer’s thighs stretching tighter around his shoulders. Elation spread through him, a hazy warmth that made his limbs loose and the edges of his vision fuzz, and Noam hollowed out his cheeks and bobbed up and down in earnest. 

He closed his eyes and rocked back and forth, trying to go deeper each time, losing himself in the swollen heat against his tongue. 

Lehrer grunted, sitting upright, the movement jolting his cock farther up Noam’s throat. Noam sucked in a tight breath through his nose, and sucked hard for as long as he could stand it. Bile pooled in his mouth, along with the salty sting of precum. When the ache was too much, Noam drew back, unable to stop his hands from trembling as he pulled off. 

A long string of saliva hung from his lips, and Noam let his gaze trail up as he rocked back on heels. Lehrer had his head bent back, not quite against the chair. His hair had gone a bit loose, splayed over his forehead, but he didn’t look any worse for wear. 

He flicked his eyes down, an eyebrow coming up like a silent challenge. 

Noam narrowed his eyes and stuck his own fingers in his mouth, wetting them until they dripped, then circled a hand around Lehrer’s still stiff erection, and started to pump in earnest, everything slick with his spit. 

He bent to wrap his lips gently around the head, tongue darting out to tease a flick against his slit, and peaked up through his lashes to see Lehrer’s reaction. 

Lehrer held his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching again, as if there was something funny. 

Noam felt desperation alight his nerves, sharper than the want. He worked at his cheeks, tamping down his gag reflex, but before he could drop back down and try to take all of Lehrer at once, there was a gentle touch to his temple. 

His eyes widened. 

Still with that flicker of a smile, Lehrer threaded his fingers through Noam’s hair. 

“Admiral enthusiasm,” he said, “but not quite there.” He was barely even out of breath. 

He was still half mouthing Lehrer’s dick. Noam reared back, struggling to find words, but Lehrer  _ tsk’d  _ and he fell silent. 

“You don’t have to worry,” Lehrer said, and there was definitely a sharp smile now, wicked like a knife, “I’m sure I have time for a few more remedial lessons.” 

The hand in his hair twisted down, shoved Noam’s head back down, and suddenly it wasn’t Noam sucking him off, but Lehrer fucking his mouth with a ruthless force. 

Lehrer bucked his hips up to meet Noam’s still gaping mouth, and he shoved in all the way this time, his cock bouncing against the soft palette of Noam’s throat, and then pushing back even further. Tears stung at his eyes. Noam struggled, but Lehrer’s grip was just as strong as it had been earlier. 

He breathed hard through his nose, the scent of Lehrer’s musk and sweat flooding his senses. He hadn’t realized his hands had come up to scrabble against the inside of Lehrer’s thighs again, but then there was another light tug at his neck, and the soft slide of fabric against fabric, and his tie was unknotted and off. Noam’s breath caught as Lehrer reached down and pried his hands free, then used telekinesis to wrap the cloth of his tie tight around his wrists. 

The tie knotted itself tight, and Noam let his hands dangle uselessly before him, his heart pounding a furious rhythm in his chest. 

Lehrer started to thrust up with a punishing rhythm. Noam squeezed his eyes shut, letting himself get fucked. Every time his wrists twitched against the bonds, a current of electric thrill shot up his spine, until he was arcing himself up to meet the snap of Lehrer’s hips. They were both breathing hard now, sweat and spit and precum dribbling down from Noam’s mouth to the soft carpet floor. 

Lehrer’s fingers in his hair twisted, fisting painfully, but his other hand cupped Noam’s cheek almost soothingly, his thumb brushing over the flush of his skin, dragging away the tears leaking earnestly from Noam’s eyes now. 

And then, when Noam was certain he was going to be sick all over Lehrer’s dick, he drove forward one last time and held Noam down tight. He gagged, struggling for air, but then Lehrer let out a low groan and came against the tight convulsions of Noam’s throat. 

He swallowed best as he could, but some of it dripped out and onto his chin as Lehrer finally let him up. 

Noam shuddered, not daring to move beyond straightening his spine. 

Lehrer’s hand was still in his hair. His eyes were lidded as his breathing settled, a slight sheen of sweat visible on his brow. His pale eyes were piercing all the same, unreadable as ever. 

With a hum, he carded his hand through Noam’s own sweaty hair, pushing the strands back. 

Noam told his heart to settle, uncertainty sweeping through his body and making his muscles too weak to pick himself back up. He dropped his gaze. This time, Lehrer didn’t snap at him, so he hesitantly let himself relax back on his heels, his still bound hands resting against his thighs. 

“Noam.” 

When he raised his chin, Lehrer had put himself back together, cock tucked away, hair slicked back again.

“Yes, sir?” Noam voice was quiet, rough from the fucking. 

And then Lehrer smiled down at him. He reached out and wiped a finger against the corner of Noam’s mouth, cleaning the last of his come off. Noam jerked up, the point of contact somehow more electrifying than anything else, making his own cock strain against the stiff uniform slacks he was wearing. 

“Good boy,” Lehrer murmured. He flicked a finger and the tie unknotted from around Noam’s wrists. It sat slack across his knees. 

After carding a hand gently through Noam’s hair again, Lehrer stood, stepping around him and going to the bookshelf. He didn’t turn back, and Noam knew a dismissal when he saw one.

With shaking hands, he looped the tie around his shirt and tied it sloppily. He scrubbed furiously at his lips, then tried to forced his hair to lie flat again. Kneeling quietly, he sucked in a few breaths until his heart slowed from a jumping mess to something a bit more reasonable. Carefully, he pushed himself to his feet, standing on wobbling knees. 

His satchel was still tossed against the bookcase. Noam swallowed tightly against the burn in his throat, and darted to pick it up. 

Before facing the door, he turned shallowly towards Lehrer again. 

“Make sure you finish the review package before next time,” Lehrer said, waving a hand behind him carelessly. 

Noam cleared his throat. “Yes, sir,” he said again, and then made his escape. 

Outside, the halls were long and still bright. How much time had passed? He wondered if they would’ve missed him at the barracks, then scoffed lightly to himself. Of course they hadn’t. He worked at his jaw, trying to get the stiffness out, and dragged a hand over his still unruly hair. Better to get back as soon as he could, take a hot shower, take care of the tender ache at his groin.

He turned the corner, and nearly ran into Dara. 

Noam’s eyes widened. 

The other boy had been reading, leaning up against the wall with a deceptively casual lounge. But there was a tick in his jaw, and he shoved his book back in his bag with uncharacteristically jerky movements. His eyes swept Noam up and down, sharp and scrutinizing. 

Noam felt hot all over, flush again with the obviousness of what he’d been doing. Certainly not remedial physics, with the mess of his hair and his mouth red and probably swollen, his tie still askew. 

But Dara didn’t say a word. Only gave him a glare that was cold as ice, and turned away. 

When Noam could will himself to move again, he followed. 


End file.
